


A War in the Shadows

by owlways_and_forever



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst, Minor Character Death, War, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24313309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlways_and_forever/pseuds/owlways_and_forever
Summary: Minerva's world begins to spin when the United Kingdom officially declares war on Germany, and every time she thinks she has a handle on it, she just gets knocked off her axis again.





	1. 3 September 1939, Edinburgh

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This story is an interesting mix of extensive research to try and make it as historically accurate as possible, and then blatantly rewriting history when needed.  
> Warnings: general war, bombings, graphic violence, character death

__

_“It is to this high purpose that I now call my people at home and my people across the seas who will make our call their own. I ask them to stand calm and firm and united in this time of trial. The task will be hard. There may be dark days ahead and war is no longer confined to the battlefield.”_

King George continued to speak but Minerva had heard enough. They had all known that war was going to come again, but the King’s address made it real in a way that it hadn’t been before. They were now officially at war.

She stood and threw a few pounds on the table, leaving her coffee half finished. The streets were teeming with people, everyone talking about the news. From the snippets of conversations Minerva overheard, it seemed like the announcement had brought out a wave of patriotism, with every Brit boasting that we would destroy Germany on the battlefield in a matter of weeks. Just wait and see, they all said, it’ll all be over by Christmas.

Minerva didn’t remember the Great War. Her brother Malcolm had been born shortly before it started, and claimed to remember the day it ended, but she had been a wartime baby, arriving a year after her father had been wounded and sent home. Then Robby had followed barely a year later. Her father rarely spoke about the war, but as Minerva got older, she had learned to see the pain in his eyes whenever someone spoke of it. She wondered if that same combination of sadness and horror would live in her expressions a decade from now.

She walked to her brothers’ flat, hoping to find them home - she had a feeling they would both be called away before long. Minerva knocked on the peeling crimson door, the color always setting it apart from the other houses whose doors were almost invariably emerald. It took a moment, but the door swung open, revealing Mrs. Dunworth, the landlady.

“Here to see your brothers?” she asked kindly, well accustomed to Minerva’s frequent visits.

“Naturally,” Minerva affirmed, stepping into the little foyer as Mrs. Dunworth held the door open for her. 

“The news is just dreadful, isn’t it?”

Minerva nodded, swallowing any remarks she might be tempted to share. She hated the idea of war, but the stories coming out of Poland were horrific, and she didn’t think she could possibly look at the flag with pride again if the country had resolutely stayed neutral.

“I suppose all the young men will be leaving soon,” Mrs. Dunworth continued, oblivious to her guest’s inner conflict.

“Yes, I expect they will.”

“Oh don’t worry dear, I’m sure your brothers will come out of it all just fine,” she said, trying to reassure Minerva with platitudes. “After all, they think all this awfulness will be over in a few weeks.” 

Minerva smiled, allowing herself to believe for a moment that the older woman’s words were true. 

“I thought I heard your voice!” Robby poked his head out from his flat, grinning at his sister with his sandy hair sticking up. 

“Hi Robby,” Minerva replied, smiling in earnest now. “Thank you, Mrs. Dunworth.”

The landlady departed, and Minerva followed her brother into the tiny flat. 

“Where’s Malcolm?” she asked, after a short silence.

“Down the mines still, but he should be home soon,” Robby answered, sitting down at the little desk in the corner of their sitting room.

Minerva nodded and took a seat on their sofa, content to wait until her older brother was home too. This news really wasn’t something they should discuss without him.

“Have you thought about what you’ll do once Malcolm marries Eileen?” she asked suddenly. Her brother was twenty seven, and had been dating Eileen for three years. It was no secret that they were going to be married, and Minerva thought he was finally about ready for it. “You won’t be able to live with him afterward.”

“I don’t know,” Robby admitted, shrugging. “It probably won’t matter now, I doubt I’ll be staying in Edinburgh much longer.”

“Don’t say that!” she chided. “I’m sure you’ll be allowed to finish your studies.”

“They’ll need soldiers, Minnie, not physicists,” he replied. 

Minerva said nothing, frowning at the floor. She shouldn’t have said anything. They waited only about thirty minutes before the door swung open and Malcolm stepped inside. His dark hair was shorn close to his head, and he had dirt and coal smudged across his face and hands. From his stern expression, they knew he had heard the news.

“They brought us up for the address,” he explained, dropping his rucksack on the floor. “Sent us home not long after. Good to see you, Minerva.”

He collapsed on the couch, exhausted after what had probably been a ten or more hour shift in the mines. Minerva saw Robby wrinkle his nose at the idea of all that dirt rubbing off on the sofa, and she had to suppress a grin.

“I saw a notice at the newsstand on the corner,” Malcolm continued, dropping his head backward and closing his eyes. “Parliament voted to conscript all men between 18 and 41. It doesn’t look like they’ll make an exemption for students, I don’t know about miners.”

“What will you do?” Minerva asked, a wave of fear washing over her.

“Register, I suppose,” he shrugged. “I can go with Robby tomorrow, it’s my day off.”

“Is it selfish to say that I don’t want you to go?”

“It’s the right thing to do,” Robby answered with the conviction of youth.

“I don’t really see much of an alternative,” Malcolm added.

Minerva looked at both of her brothers, thinking of the difficult tasks that war called for and evaluating the pair in front of her. Whenever she looked at Malcolm, she saw herself reflected back in male form, with his dark hair and narrow features. He was tall too, and his muscles were well developed from years in the mines - the same years had made him rough and stoic in personality as well. He bore the responsibility of providing for the family heavily on his shoulders, and seemed to have developed a permanent resignation that life would deal him only the lowest cards. Robby, on the other hand, was lean and gentlemanly, with his typically well-coiffed golden hair and clear blue eyes. His skin was much fairer than Malcolm’s, and his hands were unafflicted by calluses. Robby was a perpetual idealist, with complete faith that he could make any dream come true. With two older siblings helping to guide his way and smooth the path before him, Robby had led as easy a life as he could, and it showed in his sunny, contemplative nature. The two men could not be more different, one a laborer and the other a philosopher, but Minerva knew one thing they had in common. Neither of them was a killer.


	2. 28 August 1940, Edinburgh

Air raid sirens tore through the air, but it was only intermittent, the city’s signal that somewhere else had been hit. Minerva listened carefully. Dot dash dot dot. L. Dot dash dash dot. P. Liverpool had been hit. Grief washed over her for all those who had undoubtedly lost their lives there. It was the first time the city had been hit, and they were likely not as prepared as they thought. Minerva knew that children who had been evacuated to the country had returned in droves, and she shuddered to think how many of those children might now be lying lifeless on the pavement.

It was the farthest north the German bombers had traveled so far, but they all knew it could be any day that they flew over Edinburgh. Minerva stiffened at the thought. She simply would not allow her beloved city to be reduced to rubble. In a way, she felt envious of her brothers, able to fight to keep their country safe and liberate those who were occupied. Women were so limited in their opportunities to join the cause, reduced almost entirely to nurses and stenographers. Though respectable, neither path appealed to Minerva, who was in her last term of her Engineering studies.

Minerva walked back to the house she shared with five other women, each taking a room rented by Mrs. Hufflepuff, a kind old woman who doted on the girls in her care. Poppy, the youngest tennant, was sitting at the dining table with her books open, head bowed over the pages.

“What are you studying today, Poppy?” Minerva asked, peering over the shoulder of the younger girl.

“The circulatory system,” Poppy sighed, leaning on her elbow to look up at Minerva. “My teacher says it’s the most important thing a nurse can know, but it’s impossible to remember!”

“You’ll get it, just keep trying,” Minerva assured her with a sweet smile. Poppy was beyond intelligent, taking classes well beyond what her age indicated, but the poor thing could never see her own talent. “Was there any mail, Poppy?”

The entire world seemed to hang on the postal system. Minerva knew people who scheduled their entire days around when the post was delivered, determined not to let any letters sit for even a moment. She too felt like she spent all her days waiting for letters to arrive. Any word from her brothers or word that they were alright. Malcolm had written to her a week earlier from Egypt, saying that all was quiet there, despite Italy’s declaration of war two months prior. Minerva thanked God that he wasn’t seeing any battle, though she knew it frustrated him to feel like he’d left his job and his fiancée for nought. Robby was an entirely different story. He had chosen the Royal Air Force, still in its infancy, for the opportunity to work with all the newest technology. Having been assigned to RAF Fighter Command, Minerva knew that he was taking to the skies in his Spitfire every time the German bombers flew over the isle. She wished he could write to her more, but every day was a battle for him.

“There was,” Poppy answered, drawing Minerva’s attention back to the little dining room. “Nothing from your brothers, but there was a letter for you with a strange address on it. I put it on your desk.”

“Thank you,” Minerva replied, her curiosity piqued.

She climbed the stairs to her bedroom, turning immediately to her desk - in reality, a curved white dressing table with an oak top that she used exclusively for her studies - and picking up the letter that sat squarely in the middle. Her name was hand written across the middle, as was the return address in the top corner.

> _ Room 47 _ _   
>  _ _ Foreign Office _

How very unusual. She grabbed her letter opener and carefully sliced open the envelope, extracting the thin parchment inside.

> _ Miss McGonagall, _
> 
> _ The London Signals Intelligence Centre would like to invite you to be a part of a special project to aid the war effort. We believe that your studies match our needs, and you have shown exceptional promise in your work. Please attend a meeting in London on Sept. 4th to discuss further details. You will be expected to start work on the 5th. _
> 
> _ A.D. _

Minerva had no idea who A.D. was or what the London Signals Intelligence Centre did, but she gathered from the tone of the letter that she did not have much choice in the matter. There was a second piece of parchment attached to the first, and she began to read the second letter.

> _ Miss McGonagall, _
> 
> _ Enclosed are further details for your meeting with A.D. Please bring stubs of all transport tickets and lodging requirements necessary, as we will reimburse them upon your arrival. Rental fees for your current room will be settled on your behalf. You will be provided with lodging from the 4th onward. _
> 
> _ 4 Sept 1940 _ _   
>  _ _ 1430h _
> 
> _ Foreign Office  
>  _ _ King Charles St  
>  _ _ Whitehall  
>  _ _ Westminster  
>  _ __ London SW1A 2AH

There was no signature or closing to the letter, which Minerva found quite baffling. Who were these people from London, and what project did they want her for? And to be in London in only a week’s time… Minerva ruffled through the notebooks and texts in the corner of her desk until she found the morning paper, rifling through the pages until she found the train schedule. Most transport was reserved for military use now, and there were very few trains available for civilians. She could take the Flying Scotsman on the 3rd, which would get her to London just in time for supper. 

With a sigh, Minerva folded up the letter and tucked it inside one of her notebooks. She had to go tell Mrs. Hufflepuff that she would be vacating the room. She didn’t love the idea of leaving behind the kind landlady or Poppy, but hadn’t she been wishing for a way to serve her country?


End file.
